


yesterday is over

by cosmic strings (electrick)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrick/pseuds/cosmic%20strings
Summary: Everyone says life is black and white until it isn’t. Brienne can’t really argue with that. She grew up seeing everything in two.





	1. 1 - brienne

Everyone says life is black and white until it isn’t. Brienne can’t really argue with that. She grew up seeing everything in two. The island she lived in was surrounded by shades of grey; at night the sky would turn into a darker somber color until she couldn’t feel the heat on her skin. The sun was the brightest thing she’s ever felt — she loved the days when she could spring into the water.

 

Ultimately, she leaves the island she calls home. Everyone leaves, she tells herself, if not for the world, then for themselves. Through a string of unpredictable tussles, Brienne has come to see the world for what it really is : never-ending with a touch of selfishness round the corner, and the best part? She didn’t even need to see all the shades to realize that. Her father had told her that there would come a day and everything would be different. She would feel differently and everything at the core would just… magically change. As a child, she imagined what could possibly change, how could she feel anything other than what she knows? 

 

But that’s not the case, she tells herself now. She finds herself at the bar, nursing a beer in her hand. Her shift at the hospital had ended an hour ago but she didn’t want to go back to the desolate apartment to fall asleep immediately only for the day to repeat itself again. It’s past one in the afternoon yet the bar is as empty as it would be if it were one in the morning (she knows because she’s been here at that time quite a few times). The tv is playing a tennis game so she hears the thud of the ball every time it hits the ground. Combine that with the old school rock music playing in the background, and this is the perfect reminder of the life she left behind in Tarth. And for what? To work in a hospital for odd hours and drink at a half empty bar?

 

Brienne holds her chin on the palm of her hand, while the other traces the neck of the bottle. The phone in her pocket vibrates and she’s startled for a second. She reaches to pull the phone out of her jacket, when a man crashes against her elbow as he was walking behind her. He seems unconcerned by the jolt and mutters something as he rushes to the corner behind the bar.

 

“Excuse you,” Brienne grumbles and unlocks her phone to find a message from the hospital. They’re asking for her availability. She sighs deeply and closes her eyes. 

 

“Sorry?” the man at the corner slints his eyes in confusion and it’s obvious he didn’t hear what she said but knows she said something. He stands behind the bar. He’s got light short hair and stubble on his sharp jaw. He looks tired and aggravated. In fact, he looks like what she’s feeling.

 

“You could apologize, you know,” she repeats. She’s annoyed at the hospital, she’s annoyed at his insolence, most of all, she’s annoyed she’s probably not going back to her apartment tonight.

 

“For what?” he asks, opening his eyes in bewilderment with a roll of his shoulders . She scoffs, leave it to him to be so preoccupied with himself to not notice anyone else. 

 

She sees the dark rings under his eyes and the light beard with specks of white in there. It’s at this moment she notices his bright green eyes, and he sees her blue ones.


	2. 2 - jaime

The phone rings from his nightstand and Jaime drowsily reaches for it until he realizes it’s the wrong hand. He groans as he pulls his arm back over his eyes. At least this way he doesn’t have to see anything, but that doesn’t stop the phone from ringing. He lets it go to voicemail, hoping it’s of no importance. It vibrates with a text and he opens his eyes, then stares at his stump. What used to be his right hand is now a stale reminder that nothing lasts. The curvature is covered in ridges and lumps, but it’s easier to take it in the dark. If he closes his eyes, he can see the crimson swollen skin on the stump, pulsating in momentum with his heartbeat. 

 

In his dreams, he has both hands and he’s able to do everything. Now, only one of those is true. 

 

He sits up, resting his back against the headboard and looks at his phone using his good hand. There’s a voicemail and text from the bar, asking him to come in. With a deep exhale, he stares at his hand holding the phone, juxtaposed next to the stump. He’s never let it get the best of him, but as of late, it seems more difficult with each passing day. Standing up, he makes his way to the window and slides the curtains apart. There’s just buildings upon buildings and then finally, the sun. It brightens the whole room, even if it’s just a few shades lighter. There was a time in his life that he relished the dark, in fact that was when he felt the most alive. But that time has passed.

 

As he gets ready, he realizes that Sophie’s shift is about to end which means the bar will be unattended in less than half an hour. He hurries to the car but he knows better than to try to speed to the bar. If there’s one thing Jaime knows about losing a hand, it’s that driving definitely isn’t easier. He haphazardly parks across two spots in the back, thinking he’ll come back and fix it and he tries to open the back door but it’s locked. 

 

“Oh for god’s sake,” he mutters and stomps to the front of the bar. It’s fairly empty save for a few folks seated across tables and a person at the bar. He looks for Sophie but she’s not behind the bar. He hopes she hasn’t left yet - that’s not going to go over well. As he rushes to the back, he collides against the blonde at the bar, but he’s not worried.

 

He tries to peer through the window at the door, until he realizes that someone is saying something. He turns around and it’s the girl at the bar. She looks irritated, her big eyes shifted to the right as she gives him a steely look. 

 

“Sorry?” he asks with a genuine look of confusion. 

 

“You could apologize, you know,” she says and her voice is deep. Of course it is, he doesn’t know what he was expecting it to be but he’s still startled. She sits up straight that’s when he realizes that she’s big too, maybe even larger than him in size. 

 

He takes her in and it feels like he’s soaking in sunlight. He thinks it might be emanating from her otherwise why would she be so… light? Her hair is as blonde as the sun, even lighter than his own. It’s short against her head but it serves to enunciate the sharp curve of her jaw. He stops with his hand on the door handle and the air has escaped his lungs. Her lips are moving but he can’t hear anything. All he can do is focus on the bright blue hues of her eyes. He never thought he would see again, until it’s all he can see.


	3. Chapter 3

She breathes shakily, holding her drink in her hand. He leans against the door and both of them are shaken to their core. It’s a new experience, a new way of living for both. She never thought it would happen and he never assumed it would happen again. 

 

“This must be a joke,” she speaks. He blinks rapidly and focuses on the color of her face. Her skin is a milky white, pale with flush cheeks, and long blond eyelashes hovering over her blue eyes. 

 

“I didn’t know it was possible,” he speaks and makes his way to behind the bar in front of her. His fingers skim the brown, wooden surface of the bar, the metal handles of the nozzle, the clear glasses. He stops in front of her, and zeroes in on her eyes. They’re as blue as blue could be. The color, it’s nothing he’s ever seen before and there’s something stirring within him.

 

“Of course it’s possible, that is, unless you’ve been living under a rock,” she mutters. She’s examining her drink from every angle as she holds it up. The foam is white and the liquid is dusty brown and it’s not the most intoxicating color but it’s unknown. 

 

“That’s not what I meant,” he mumbles and looks at his hand. Her phone chirps and she’s brought back to reality. 

 

“We need to talk. I’ll be back tonight,” she states firmly. She downs the rest of her drink, drops a 5 on the table and walks out of the bar. He watches her leave, the blue cloth of the scrubs shifting as she walks, the grey of the coat, the black shoes she’s wearing. Everything is too much, all at once, overwhelming him.

 

Jaime calls Tyrion almost immediately. He closes his eyes and the pitch black behind them is a soft space for him. Nothing has changed there and it doesn’t mean anything. It must be fluke. It’s not supposed to happen twice. 

 

“Hello?” Tyrion picks up and answers with a drawl.

 

“It’s so strange. I never thought it would happen again,” Jaime says.

 

“What? What do you mean? What’s happening?” Tyrion’s tone flips completely and the concern is evident in his voice. 

 

“I can see them again, please tell me this isn’t real,” Jaime mutters. 

 

“The colors?” he asks quietly. Jaime exhales into the phone and that’s all the confirmation Tyrion needs.

 

“I’ll be over in a few,” he hangs up the phone and Jaime pours himself a beer as he waits for his brother. 

 

—

 

The door opens behind him and the sound of Tyrion shuffling is familiar enough that he pushes back the seat next to him as invitation. 

 

“So, my dear brother, who is the lucky person?” he asks. 

 

“Some behemoth of a woman. She was in here wearing scrubs,” Jaime answers. 

 

“Tyrion, I thought Cersei was it. But she’s gone, it’s not supposed to happen,” he needs an explanation. 

 

“Jaime, I don’t understand why or how it’s happening but let me tell you, there is no mistake. You’ve been given another chance,” Tyrion places his hand on Jaime’s arm. 

 

“I suppose so. I’m just wholly unprepared for all this,” he says with a groan.

 

“Well that’s the wonder of life, isn’t it?” Tyrion scoffs and Jaime feels a bout of relief wash over him and he slumps on the stool. 

 

“She’s coming back tonight,” Jaime says. Tyrion pats him on his arm, his way of showing solidarity and support. 

 

—

 

Brienne walks to the hospital — her normal route feels so overwhelming, she’s noticing things that she’s never seen before. The grass is mostly green but the dead patches are a jarring yellow color. The leaves on the ground are various shades of red bleeding in orange, crunchy to the touch. The hospital is a dark grey, something that’s finally familiar and the same.

 

She works mindlessly, on repeat yet she stops to notice the coloration of everything. It was always light but she realizes it’s also harsh and unforgiving to the eye. It’s unsettling but she chalks it up to her projecting her feelings on the hospital. She’s a wreck and she knows it. 

 

“Is everything okay?” Pod asks her as she finishes filling out her chart.

 

“Yes, everything’s alright,” she mumbles without glancing up. 

 

“Ok, you wanna grab a drink tonight?” he turns to face her but her body language pushes him away. 

 

“Sorry, can’t. Listen, I’ve got to go Pod, but I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” she looks at him finally, afraid that suddenly everything will turn gray but nothing happens except Pod smiles and she breathes a sigh of relief. For some reason, it feels like the world validating what happened earlier. 

 

“Okay then. See you tomorrow,” he says and leaves her. 

 

—

 

Jaime mans the bar for the rest of the night, hoping to catch the infamous blonde. It’s almost midnight when she walks. The bar is busy, people chatting away yet everything feels different. It’s dimly light, more dark and brown than anything but once she walks in, everything changes. The chatter melts to a hush, the lights turn brighter, focusing on her. 

 

Their eyes connect and he soaks her in. Her face is blank, but it drops once she sees him. She breaks away and walks to the bar, and unknowingly, he walks to her. They’re in front of each other, hindered by the wood of bar. 

 

“Let’s go in back,” he says as he points to the side door. He signals to someone else, presumably to take over bar. She nods to him and walks to the door. He opens the door for her and it’s quiet, everything is no longer dark and moody, but lit by a grating white light. 

 

“Right then. My name is Brienne. You are?” she asks him. Her hands are stuffed in the pockets of her coat and she’s staring blatantly at his stump.

 

“Jamie.” He pulls his sleeve back and shows the missing hand in all of its glory. She doesn’t even flinch. Her face is cool and she takes it in, ugly and bare. 

 

“How did it happen?” she nods to the exposed flesh. 

 

“Did you watch 127 Hours?” he asks with slanted eyes. Her eyes widen in shock and it’s more blue than he handle. Then she stiffly nods in affirmation. 

 

“Well, it was nothing like that,” he smirks. She rolls her eyes and finally, the hint of a smile. 

 

“I was in a car accident and my hand was caught in between the belt.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she offers her condolences. 

 

“Are you disappointed?” 

 

“Why would I be disappointed?” she looks confused, brows furried together as she finally settles on his face.

 

“Because this is me,” he shrugs. There’s an air of insecurity hovering over him, weighing over him as he asks this because this is all he is, an old man, past his prime, disabled and forgotten to the world. 

 

“Well, this is me. Are you disappointed?” she asks pointedly. This is her in her glory, someone who’s never given love a chance, living life on paper. 

 

“Not for a second,” his response is firm. 

 


End file.
